Shot to the Heart
by RedShocktrooper
Summary: Marina Wulfstan is that new girl on the Sniping block, and new to the Militia as a whole. When she nearly fails at training, she begins to see the man who helps her in a different way than he intended. But now, she'll have to confront him about it.
1. Chapter 1

**Shot to the Heart**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters depicted herein. They are property of Sega.**

The continuous sounds of gunfire could be heard on the range. Scouts training with the Gallian 1 carbine, filling her ears with what would be a deafening crack to the untrained ear. For her, such a sound was what she had relied on for many years, for food and for sport. She was no stranger to gunfire, and to be without a weapon of any sort was, to her, comparable to walking in the street without a shred of clothing. She'd already proved herself more than capable with the scout weapons – it was the weapon her father had taught her to use, and the one she had depended on for years.

She'd proven so apt with the weapon, the militia trainers had directed her to more specialized marksmanship training. Trading the semi-automatic weapon for a bolt action GSR, she observed the snipers of various other training classes. Some of them hit, while others missed. While the outside did not clearly show it, nervousness had set in.

Of course, any emotion generally didn't show on the outside of her, and was generally locked inside a safe of coldheartedness, the same mask of an emotionless glare standing in place of every emotion that could be pursued. If only was emotion was ever displayed, it was contempt for her fellow man, which was shown at when someone took notice of her appearance; the short, jet-black hair and violet eyes could easily draw any man's attention, and if Marina so desired she could have herself a harem of sorts.

Such things were not high on her list of things to acquire. If all had gone as she'd wanted, she would not be surrounded by people at the moment. But one of the things she'd learned from her father was that things never went as planned. The only thing she could think of was to pay whatever attempts came to hit on her with ignorance, and hope that the source would go away.

This solution, no matter how temporary, nearly ended up getting her in trouble a few moments later. She nearly ignored the instructor, who decided to bring her out of her intentional ignorance with a swift smack on the head, bringing her back into the real world, while nearly knocking her to her knees in surprise, though a very audible yelp was heard.

"Wulfstan?" the instructor asked, in a tone of voice that indicated this was more of a statement than a question.

Marina nodded to him, snapping into a salute. The pair of violet eyes, still visible at current, stared back at him in a near identical manner to how he stared at her.

"Are you here to learn how to use that rifle, or have a staring contest, Wulfstan?"

Marina sighed, and answered by bringing her rifle up to chest level, making it clear she had no intentions of speaking.

"The silent type, I see," the instructor said. "Well... at least you have the psychology of a sniper."

She responded with more silence. She really did seem to be as cold as she appeared, and merely waited to be directed to a target on the range; a simple paper was handed to her, indicating that she would be using the one second from the end. Fairly out of the way, something she did not mind in the least. Five training rounds were given to her, and she made her way down to her target.

Again, her eyes wandered to her fellow snipers-in-training, and their hits and misses. She could make out a boy who looked no more than fifteen, sixteen at the very most, with an x-shaped scar on his forehead. He seemed to only be hitting out of luck. A woman, older than her, was easily making shots at a slow, deliberate pace, not attempting a 'Mad Minute' like the boy beside her. Four rounds hit, but she did not fire the fifth and final one. From her apparent age, it was possible she was only on the range to get reacquainted with the weapon.

She reached the spot she was to fire from, and looked down range at the target. The rifle was switched from the right shoulder, to her preferred left, and she raised it up to fire. What her father had drilled into her back home, as far as she knew, still applied. Stay calm, let the gun surprise you, relax, but not too much. She popped off a fake shot just to get a feel for the gun, and pulled the right hand away from the forward grip long enough to open the chamber and load her rounds into the gun, and close the bolt.

For real, this time, her finger tightened on the trigger. She lined up the shot, relaxed enough not to be too tense, and pulled, creating her own loud crack.

"AAAAGH!"

The pained cry drew the attention of the others near by. The first shot had not only missed, much to Marina's dismay, but also drove the scope into her eye, creating a red half-ring around the bottom. She instantly brought her hand up, and felt the warm substance oozing out of the wound. As much as she didn't want to, she could not prevent pained tears from forming. Four more rounds were still in the magazine.

Ignoring whatever pain she had from the scope injury, she cycled the bolt with her right hand (as she normally did), and brought it up to her shoulder to fire again.

_Ok... let's try this again. Four more shots..._

She repeated the steps she had taken, but held the rifle in such a way that the recoil would not drive the scope into her eye again. The last thing she needed was for her main eye to be obscured by her own blood.

As her finger tightened on the trigger again, one of the saltwater tears seeped into her wound, causing more pain and distracting her. Her hand tightened too soon, and the rifle surprised her again. Another puff of dirt and light blue smoke – she'd missed again.

_Damn it..._

With a groan, she decided that firing left, handed wasn't doing any good, and switched over to her right. It felt alien, like someone else was holding the gun, but she wasn't hitting anything with her normal shooting arm.

"Hey... let me help you out," a male voice said from behind her. It was far too calm to be that of the instructor, and nearly quiet enough to be her own. "You look like you could need help, miss."

As much as she wanted to say yes, or answer one way or the other, for that matter, she simply could not accept his help. It would be him shooting, not her. But before she could answer, he was standing near her.

"Here... hold it like this," he said, placing his hands over hers, moving them so that she held the rifle as the man was instructing her. "There. That's it. Don't get too relaxed, miss. That puts your eye out. You have to be a bit more tense with a sniper rifle, to keep the kick down."

Though he couldn't see it, Marina was beginning to blush a bit. No man, save for her father, had ever come this close to her without getting punched, and certainly had never done so to help her shoot. "There. Notice how it's swaying a bit. When you're about to take a shot, breath out and then shoot. If there's air in your lungs, you'll miss."

With this in mind, she let out a deep breath, emptying her lungs of air. Her aim steadied, and the target five-hundred meters away stopped swaying in her sights. She tensed, but only enough to keep the rifle from striking her eye again, and the man stepped back a bit, releasing his hold on her.

She fired, and the shot hit the target this time. A thought crossed her mind, and she reloaded her rifle, and repeated what the man had said. This round hit, as well. That made two hits.

There was now one round in the magazine, and she fired this one as well. The man who had helped her whistled after the shot, impressed.

"Miss... you seem like you could be very good at this," he said in a louder voice. She sighed again, to see why this was.

The last round had hit dead center, and when she lowered her rifle, a blush had again come to her face.

"T-thanks," she stuttered. "For... uh..."

"Helping you? Yeah, don't mention it," the man said. Now was the first time she'd seen him, and appearances surprised her. Gray hair, blue eyes. It was sort of long for a guy's hair, and some of it fell over her face. "You... might want to get the blood ring checked. One of the things I've seen male lieutenants look for in the women they pick is a pretty face."

Marina blushed again, thinking about what the man may have implied. The only thing that crossed her mind, at the moment, at least, was to move her hair down over the injured eye.

"Well... it works," he noted at her solution, before moving to his own target, on the very end.

An impulse came to her mind. She normally didn't act on them, but this sort of came out. "Why... did you help me, sir?"

The man lowered his rifle before he could fire, and looked over at her. "I doubt I'll be alone out there. I want to be able to count on my team mates, if we end up in the same squad. I'd like to see this war end, after all."

Well, it _was_ a reason, and it was very hard to argue with it. But she could not help but think there was something past that. Deciding to wait a bit, so she could see how well he shot, she stood there.

The first shot he fired hit the outer edges of the the target. The second, a bit closer to the middle, but on the other side. Three hit somewhere between one and two, while four struck just off center. Now it was her turn to be impressed.

Five hit right in the middle. He'd put all five shots on target, though they were scattered.

"Wow." That was just it, all Marina could muster to say, and it perfectly described how impressed she was with his marksmanship.

"Thanks... oh, I never caught your name, did I?"

Marina shook her head. "Marina Wulfstan."

With a nod, he extended his hand. "Cezary Regard. It's... nice to meet you, Miss Wulfstan."

The fact that she'd bit her lip before shaking the hand showed he'd made her uncomfortable, but he figured she'd come out of her shell eventually. "It's... nice to meet you too..."

Cezary nodded to her, and walked away. "Keep working like I showed you. You'll get it soon enough."

Of course, 'getting it' wasn't what the thoughts currently crossing her mind contained.

-**End Chapter 1**-

Yeah. I know what you might be thinking. There is no possible way Marina could ever think of doing what she seems to be thinking of doing.

Well, you're wrong. I happen to see it as working, under the right circumstances.


	2. Chapter 2

She felt odd, in a manner she had never felt. When Cezary showed her how to use the sniper rifle, she felt a strange sensation. She'd never known herself to feel it before, so it was entirely new, at least to her. It was warm... happy almost. Her heart beat a bit faster, and she knew she'd blushed against her will. The idea that someone wanted her for more than just reproductive reasons was beyond her, but she had to see some reason why she felt different near him.

"I guess I couldn't avoid this," Marina muttered to herself.

Thinking to herself, thoughts began to cross her mind. She couldn't help but think that the reason he'd helped her was beyond simply wanting to be able to trust his life to her. At the same time, she desperately wanted that to be it. If it wasn't, that meant he was into her. That was only helped by the fact that he seemingly called her 'pretty', or at least implied it. She'd never thought of herself in that manner. The thoughts made her both happy and upset at the same time. Since she was alone at the moment, she allowed herself to show the emotions. Perhaps a bit fortunately, happiness took precedence over whatever confused anger she had, and a small smile began to form on her face.

"Maybe... he likes me... too," she again said to herself. The thought was certainly pleasing.

She couldn't stop her mind from wandering. Though she hardly knew him, she began to picture various firsts with Cezary. The first kiss, first date, and first time. Though she winced lightly at the last first, she figured it would be one of those things that happened along the way. Besides, if he actually was the way he acted, perhaps she wouldn't mind a little pain at his hand. Maybe he was thinking similar thoughts about her. This would only help her in the long run.

A light sigh escaped her lips. Happiness faded. What if he was just acting? He could just be out to break her heart or something, or the real him was some sort of asshole who'd dump her as soon as he'd claimed her virginity. This thought bothered her to no end, and the smile began to fade. She knew that the only real way to find out one way or the other was, indeed, to confront him about it.

That was just the problem she'd have. She felt deathly afraid of confronting him, and in the back of her mind she was quite aware that it would be an instant trip to laughing stock. Her father would never respect her if he caught wind of how the others laughed at her, but burying the feelings she at least thought she was developing for a guy she hardly really knew would be hard, if not impossible.

In her currently somewhat-absent minded state, others had begun to appear in the women's barracks. It seemed she wasn't the only one going through the basic refresher course. The older female sniper from the range saw Marina seemingly sulking to herself.

"Lass? Is something wrong?" the older woman asked.

Snapping out of her thoughts, the black-haired girl quickly looked up at her elder. "Huh... um... no, ma'am."

"Really, now? Are you really sure about that?"

Knowing the woman probably wouldn't leave her be until she was given an answer, and probably an honest one at that, Marina looked away with another blush threatening to come. "No."

The woman shrugged, and feigned confusion. "Really, now? Does this have anything to do with the lad on the shooting range?"

Marina quickly shot back from the woman, comfort zone breeched, and the blush threatening to come to her skipped the light pink tinge stage and went straight to red. "N-No! I-it has nothing to do with him! In _any_ way! Why do you want to know anyway?"

This only seemed to confirm the woman's thoughts. "Your lips are saying 'no', lass, but I know well enough that the rest of you is screaming out 'yes'. Don't try to pull that on someone who was in the same place herself."

An annoyed grunt of sorts came from the younger markswoman-in-training.

"I'll tell you, there is a reason my surname is O'Hara."

As much as Marina desperately wanted this to help her, it ended up doing more harm then good. Hearing someone else's success story would make her failure all the harder and more embarrassing. The blush reddened further.

"M-Missus O'Hara... stop... right there..."

"What's wrong lass?"

Marina diverted her eyesight away from the married woman. "I-I know you want to help... but... please, just... don't."

Not having much else to say after that, the woman nodded. "Alright. I think I can see when my advice won't be needed." Leaving the younger girl to her own devices, she walked off to her bunk.

Now, a bit of remorse set in. A lack of contact with anyone past her father had certainly taken a toll on Marina, and what had just occurred had demonstrated it, though she did doubt Missus O'Hara actually could help her. As far as she knew, they were worlds apart.

"Agh..." she grumbled to herself. At the same time, the older woman could have been exactly like her at some point, and lightning could strike in the same place twice, just like a bullet could. It was very rare, but possible. She should have heard the older woman out, but now she'd put herself in such a manner as to be on her own.

_That was dumb,_ she thought. _She could have really helped me out... but, then, it wouldn't really be my doing, would it?_

More conflicted thoughts came to her head. Again, Cezary came to her thoughts, causing the nearly-not-a-sniper to want to disappear into the restroom to be alone again. This was when things suddenly fell silent, and in spite of being surrounded by people.

She let out an annoyed sigh, mostly at herself than at anyone else.

_**-The Male Barracks-**_

Many things were on his mind, that much was certain. The fact that the others were convinced that he had something of a crush on the girl he'd helped on the range being one of them. While Cezary would quite readily admit she was cute in a strange, solitary way, the idea of actually getting past helper with her was very out there for him.

One of the jokers of the camp kept giving him crap about it. He was convinced the joker, a guy name of Ted Ustinov, was interested in the girl more than he was. The way he kept talking about Marina could certainly make one think that – of course, it could have just been to bug him.

This didn't mean that Cezary himself wouldn't, as some others had put it, tap that. The problem was actually convincing the others that it would only be a one-night thing. Two at the most. He simply couldn't see himself actually being with Wulfstan. That, and he wanted to be able to count on everyone on that range with his life. Oscar, upon getting his head out of his ass and slowing down a bit, was getting shots on target. Catherine he didn't need to worry about at all. The various others were respectable in their own rights. Marina was the only one, as far as he knew, who was missing do to actually not knowing the weapon in her hands.

The last thing he wanted was to have to trust his life to someone who couldn't hit what she was pointed at. She could miss at an inconvenient time – or worse, hit him on accident by doing something stupid. It would be impossible to tell. That, and he hardly knew the girl past her looks and seeming shyness.

Though, granted, said looks did make for very good dirty thoughts. He'd have to keep them in mind for when he he was a bit more available for that sort of thing, since the last thing he was going to do was confirm those rumors by actually banging her. Not that he didn't want to, but he would have to be very, very drunk in order to put that option on the table. Then he could claim drunken immunity, with the whole girls-getting-prettier thing.

That, and supposed beauty was quite tarnished after the ring under that girl's eye. If he ever did bang her, the hair would have to stay.

"Shut up, Ted," he grunted.

"What? I haven't said anything! I just walked in!"

"Exactly. I want it to stay that way."

The spikey-haired Scout grunted. "Doesn't quiet get boring?"

"If quiet means you're not talking, then I like it."

_If at all possible, keep a distance between yourself and Ustinov in combat. He'll talk and distract. That gets you killed. I don't think he'll help me out all that much anyway. He's not even all that good of a shot._

Ignoring the others coming in, who mostly kept to themselves, Cezary thought a bit. He remembered seeing someone manage to get a GSR-3, which he would not mind having. Getting superior firepower, and mixing it with a good hiding place, could put threats out of action. More threats KIA meant he had a greater chance of heading home. Maybe even the rest of whatever squad he got put in would go home too. Whether or not that was actually good was debatable, but he figured it would be an OK secondary objective.

Well, unless any darkhairs happened to be there. God help him if even a single purplish-blue hair showed up, that'd end them all. He never did remember anything good coming out of them, but if he had to entrust his life to them, well...

...Best to hope they didn't expect similar from him. At least, for him, nothing good ever came out of being within a few meters of them. Unless, of course, he could absolutely, positive count on that _particular_ one being able to save his ass. He did spot one of the scouts who seemed to be an OK shot. Enough to hit an enemy at two-hundred to three-hundred meters, but he wouldn't trust the darkhair past that.

Eh... maybe helping that girl was actually a bit wasteful...

-**End Chapter 2**-

Yeah, second round. Cezary isn't as nice as the first chapter made him out to be, and his racism is still present. There are certain aspects that will not be touched, as they are integral to the character him or herself. Cezy's racism is one of these.


End file.
